In Inches, In Miles, In Laughter, In Strife
by particularly good finder
Summary: Drabbles of the lives of Finn and Kurt, brothers and friends.
1. February 25, 2011

_Many older, wiser writers have told me that the key to being a good writer is to write every day. It doesn't matter_ what _you write, they said, as long as you're writing. So, to keep up with my writing, I'm starting this series of drabbles. _

_Most will be Furt-centric, but there will also be bits of Klaine, possibly Finchel, and other characters that come to mind. I will try to post one every single day, except for the days when I work on other stories. Some will be short – incredibly short – and some will probably have absolutely no point. There will be happy ones, sad ones, interconnecting ones, impossible ones. _

_For once, I am not doing this for reviews. They would be much appreciated, but I will continue writing, no matter what. A writer is born a writer, and trying to stop them is like trying to stop the Earth from turning. _

_So, after that long and unnecessary author's note, I present _**In Inches, In Miles, In Laughter, In Strife**.

:-:

Kurt was really, _really_ annoying, Finn decided. Like, _really_.

Kurt bossed him around all the time, telling him to _clean his room_ and _do his homework_ and _oh my Gaga, he couldn't just drink milk from the carton! That's disgusting!_ It was like having a second, whinier mother with some serious control issues.

But the worst part? Kurt was friends will _all_ of Finn's ex-girlfriends. Quinn came over frequently to pick Kurt up for trips to the gym, Santana (not a girlfriend, but close enough) hung around some weeknights to get secret tutoring for math class, and Rachel – sweet Jesus, it seemed like Rachel _lived_ at the Hudson-Hummel house half the time, always flitting in and out of Kurt's room with karaoke CDs and DVDs for movie nights. Finn felt uncomfortable in his own home most of the time anymore, and it was _all Kurt's fault_.

The worst was when Kurt threw sleepovers. Watching Quinn, Santana, and Rachel all running around in their skimpy little pajamas, giggling and chatting and arguing as Kurt sat amongst the group, like some sort of screwed-up harem leader, just _taunting _Finn and his inability to keep a girlfriend.

So Finn retaliated. The next weekend, single guy from glee club (yes, even _Sam_) came over for an all-night _Call of Duty_ tournament. Kurt was out late on a "not-date" with Blaine (and Rachel and Mercedes), and was completely unprepared for the sight that met his eyes when he trudged through the front door.

Half the guys were shirtless, most in pajama pants or boxers, and they were yelling and making completely inappropriate noises as the game heated up. In frustration, Puck dropped his remote and wrestled Mike to the floor as Artie cheered them on. Kurt's pants tightened a little, and he glared at Finn, who was wearing his perfected "innocent" face.

Kurt calmly walked up the stairs, resisting the urge to flip off his brother. After all, revenge was something Kurt was a master at.

Three days later, Finn came home to a bunch of half-naked girls in his living room. His mom was sitting on the couch, ooh-ing and ah-ing as the girls twirled around, showing off their swimsuits. Swimsuits. It was March. In _Ohio_.

"What's going on?" Finn asked, clearing his throat awkwardly. Kurt, who was seated next to Finn's mom, looked over, smirking demonically.

"Oh, the girls and I just got back from a shopping trip in Columbus, and we're showing off the new swim suit styles for Carole, here. Don't the girls look _wonderful_, Finn?"

Finn bit the inside of his cheek. "Yeah…you guys look…nice."

The girls giggled, making Finn's face turn red. Kurt's smirk grew.

Finn thought carefully about The Mailman, and started inching towards the staircase. Before he reached it, though, he leaned in to Kurt, whispering, "Bring it, Hummel."

Kurt licked his lips, eyes narrowing. "Prepare yourself, Hudson."

And thus the war began.

A day later, Finn called Kurt from the locker room, asking him to bring his gym bag from its spot under the piano in the glee room. Kurt ran so quickly past all of the sweaty, half-naked guys that as he left, the track coach offered him a spot on the team. Finn couldn't stop laughing, and Puck was ready to take him to Ms. Pillsbury's office for _completely losing his mind_.

A week later, Finn found his computer screen frozen on a scandalous porn sight. Kurt laughed a little too hard when he found Finn pounding on his keyboard. Carole was less amused.

Three days later, Burt stumbled across some _questionable _magazines on Kurt's desk. Dinner had been so awkward that Finn had to excuse himself multiple times to go laugh in the bathroom.

Two more weeks went by like this, until Finn approached Kurt one evening, waving a sock like a flag of surrender. "Look, man, I don't think our parents can handle any more of this war. Truce?"

Kurt eyed his brother skeptically, then nodded. "Truce. But only because you don't have enough restraint to hide your boner in public."

Finn sighed. "This war isn't really over, is it?"

Kurt shook his head. "It'll never be over, brother."

So, yeah, Finn found Kurt _really_ annoying. But, after all, what else were brothers for?


	2. February 28, 2011

:-:

_those you've known__and lost, still walk behind you_  
**all alone****, ****they linger till they find you**

:-:

_without them__the world grows dark around you_  
**and nothing is the same until you know that they have found you**

:-:

The house was deathly silent. It was a gray Sunday morning, and no one dared interrupt the tenuous hush that lingered through the house. Around the neighborhood, children were waking in joy and delight to find the goodies left behind by a mysterious white rabbit, and parents were yawning behind mugs of coffee, grinning in the happiness of this holy day. But the Hummel-Hudson house was a solemn sanctuary of stillness, not a breath of disturbance to behold.

Burt Hummel sat in his bedroom, calloused fingers running over the smooth glass of a picture frame, wiping away a thin layer of dust that clouded the photo within like a veil. Oh, to be back in those happy times, with Katherine and their sweet little son. Kathy and Burt and Kurt, the most perfect family that ever existed.

He held the photo to his heart, mumbling clumsy words of prayer with scrunched up eyes, half-leaking with tears. They started off slowly, clear and coherent sentences, "_The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…_" until he was sobbing out broken words and cries to one of the only people he's ever loved more than life itself. "_Katherine…Kath…Katherine…Kathy!_"

:-:

Carole sat in the living room, staring at the urn that held her husbands ashes, toying with a worn-down letter. The date at the top seemed impossibly long ago, and the edges were peeling away under her tender fingers. She wondered vaguely if, at the day of her own death, there would be anything left of the only thing that kept her going for the last sixteen years. Even now, the letter was fading from her hands, with each day that her heart healed.

She heard giggling from next door, and her heart sank. Christopher never watched Finn run through the yard, laughing as he found Easter eggs filled with trivial little goodies. Christopher never sat with Finn as he bemoaned a chocolate-and-jelly-bean-induced tummy ache. Christopher never saw Finn grow up into the handsome young man he was today.

A tear escaped down her cheek. "Oh, Chris…" She murmured, stroking the side of the urn. "You've missed so much."

:-:

Kurt sat on his windowsill, staring out at the neighbor children running after each other, plucking brightly colored eggs out from the bushes. He rested his forehead on the glass, sighing. In his hand, an immaculate gold cross glittered on its chain, looking so out of place in the grasp of the devout Atheist.

"Mom…" he whispered, closing his eyes. The silence was crushing down on him, suffocating him, drowning him…

A knock on his door broke through the quiet, and the hushed house seemed to shake in surprise.

"Kurt…?" Finn peeked in, frowning. "Are you okay?"

:-:

Burt came down the stairs, wiping the last of the tears from his eyes. He found Carole in the kitchen, staring into nothingness, and wrapped his arms around her from behind, kissing her head.

"It's hard, isn't it?" He asked, eyes on the glimmering urn. Carole nodded.

"It is…" Her voice croaked a bit. "I know…I know it was hard on Kurt…but you are so lucky that Katherine got to watch him grow up, if only for a little bit. Chris…he barely even got to _hold_ Finn…and I just…I always thought today would be one of those days we shared together for the rest of our lives. Candy and church and _childhood_…"

She cried into his shoulder, letting him hold her as she broke down. Carole was a fighter; she never cried in front of _anyone_. Finn had only witnessed her tears a few times before, but he was her _son_ and her _world_.

They said nothing more; nothing more was needed. They had their peace and comfort. They could let their children's hands go, let them fly out on their own. They'd found their light at the end of the tunnel.

They weren't alone anymore.

:-:

"It was my mom's," Kurt whispered. "She was very devout. Had such a beautiful soul…"

Finn took the cross from his brother's hand. "Is that why you stopped…believing?"

Kurt nodded. "How could any divine being strip his most dedicated daughter of her life? How is that fair?"

The taller boy said nothing, but kissed the crucifix softly, placing back into his brother's hand. He brushed back the boy's hair, and wiped a tear from his nose.

"Sometimes…sometimes I hope I'm wrong." Kurt's blue eyes met Finn's brown ones. "I don't want to burn in Hell...But it would be worth it, as long as I knew Mom was in Heaven. I _want_ to believe. I _want_ to think she's in a better place. But I can't. I just can't."

Finn pulled Kurt into a hug, burying his nose in the boy's hair. "You know…even if there _is_ a Heaven…it won't be a better place than here. Because…when she was here, she had you."

Kurt burst into tears again, sobbing into Finn's shirt. The taller boy felt his cheeks grow wet, but it didn't matter. Life was looking up. He had a brother, a father…he had a family.

He and Kurt weren't alone anymore.

:-:


	3. February 28, 2011, P2

**Because of certain events on Tumblr tonight, I just **_**had**_** to do a second drabble for today. (Plus, I'm kinda busy tomorrow.) This is dedicated to Chey (darrenchrist on Tumblr) who probably won't see this and whom I've never met, but totally deserves every ounce of love and concern that smothered her dash tonight.**

**:-:**

Kurt sat on his bed, wiping at his eyes furiously with the back of his hand. Damn Karofsky, damn Figgins, damn McKinley… and damn his sexuality. Why did he bring so much torment on himself and those around him?

Maybe he should just…no. There he was, thinking like _that_ again. It…it wasn't his time yet.

Was it?

"Kurt?" A voice broke his inner turmoil. "Are you okay? You're crying…"

"M'fine, Finn. Go away." Kurt's voice was thick with emotion, and even dull, naïve Finn could see that Kurt _was not fine_.

"Come here. No seriously, _come here_," Finn commanded, pulling his brother up off the bed. "Follow me."

"Finn…" Kurt warned, but the tall boy paid no heed. Careful not to wake their sleeping parents, the boys snuck across the hall to the guest bedroom, closing the door softly behind them.

"All right, over here," Finn whispered as he opened the porch door. "Out here. You'll love it."

Kurt huffed. "Finn, really, I'm fine…"

The taller boy just shook his head and walked onto the porch, quickly climbing over the railing onto the roof. He motioned for the other boy to follow, so Kurt reluctantly hopped over the wooden rail, balancing carefully on the slanted tiles. Finn grabbed his hand, leading him over to a more level spot.

"Sit," Finn commanded, and Kurt silently obeyed, frowning.

"What are we even-?"

"Look up." Finn swiveled his head upwards, so Kurt did the same.

"_Oh._" The word left Kurt's mouth in rush of air, almost a sigh. "_Wow_."

The stars were splattered across the sky like freckles across a clear, dark face. They pulsed and wavered and glittered above him, like living, breathing angels hovering above his head. Finn smiled, sighing a bit.

"Makes you realize how little you are. How…alone," Kurt murmured softly, resting his hand under his chin.

"You're not alone," Finn said, voice deep and quiet and strong. "You're never alone."

Kurt blushed a little under Finn's intense gaze. Finn was silly, and arrogant, and sort of dumb, but he just _knew_ things sometimes, things no one else knew or could vocalize.

"The stars…don't they make you see how special you are? That you – _you_, out of so many moments and mishaps and years of history – you were born to see these beautiful stars? You were special enough to be here, to experience life? That's what they do to me."

Finn ducked his head, smiling sadly. Taking his hand, Kurt kissed the boy's cheek, grinning. "Thanks, Finn."

"No problem, Kurt."

They sat on the roof until they fell asleep, hand-in-hand, hearts intertwined.

:-:

**(I told you some would be short.)**

**If any of you ever need to talk, **_**ever**_**, just PM me, okay? I'm serious. You're never alone. **


	4. March 2, 2011

Kurt stumbled from his room sleepily, rubbing an eye with the heel of his hand. The only problem with this new house was the upstairs bathroom. Not only did he have to walk all the way across the hallway now, but he had to share it with_ Finn_. It was an absolute nightmare.

(But the fact that Finn kept the bathroom well stocked in _Finding Nemo_ Dixie cups made the arrangement a bit more bearable. But Kurt would never admit that.)

Kurt was on his way to use one of those cups now, in fact. He was tired, he was thirsty, and the kitchen was _way_ too far away. Besides, lukewarm water was better for his vocal chords.

As he opened the bathroom door, however, he was met with the sound of retching. Finn was slumped over the toilet, dry-heaving into the basin. All thoughts of water and Dory-covered Dixie cups fled Kurt's mind.

"Finn, are you sick?" He asked stupidly, entering the room. The taller boy nodded weakly, clutching at his abdomen.

"Haven't…thrown up…_yet_…" He groaned, doubling over at a pain in his stomach. "But I want to."

Kurt kneeled next to Finn, rubbing his back. Finn shuddered violently, a cold sweat breaking out on his face. He heaved into the basin yet again, nothing but pitiful whimpers coming from his mouth.

"Kurt…my tummy hurts…" It was such a simple sentence, but Kurt found it the most endearing thing Finn had ever said. He shifted closer to his brother, rubbing the boy's stomach tentatively. Finn's face relaxed a bit, and he let out a sigh, trembling from weakness.

"Thanks…" He muttered, sending a glance in Kurt's direction. As Kurt made to reply, Finn's eyes grew wide, and the tall boy threw his body over the toilet, heaving. Kurt had to look away, feeling squeamish at the sight of his brother throwing up.

Finn emptied his stomach, then slumped against the side of the bathtub, completely drained. Kurt stood, flushed the toilet, and grabbed a cup (Nemo and his dad) from the sink. Filling it quickly, he handed it to Finn, who drank it gratefully and slowly.

As his brother rehydrated, Kurt dampened a washcloth and used it to mop the sweat from the taller boy's cheeks and forehead. Finn sighed, leaning back against the tub sleepily.

"Come on, you invalid. Let's get you to bed." Kurt murmured, pulling the boy up. Together they stumbled next door to Finn's room, and Finn crawled pathetically into bed, whimpering a little. Kurt pulled up a trashcan to sit next to the bed, then tucked in Finn's covers just the way he liked them.

Pushing back his brother's damp bangs, Kurt kissed Finn on the forehead. The taller boy sighed, then pulled Kurt to sit down on the bed.

"Stay…" He pleaded, grunting as his stomach pained him. "Sing me a lullaby."

"When did you turn three years old, Finn?" Kurt asked, rolling his eyes. The taller boy said nothing, because a second round of vomiting had started, and he was head-deep in the trashcan. Kurt went and found his cup of water, then changed the bags on the trashcan and took the disgusting one downstairs, to the garage where the main trashcan stood.

When he reached Finn's room again, the sick boy had made a little place for Kurt on his bed, pillow and all. Kurt chuckled to himself, the sat next to his brother, brushing back his hair a little.

"Alright…a lullaby, huh? Let's see…" He thought back to when he got sick as a kid, and what his mom would do to make him feel better. Lying down on the pillow, Kurt reached out and started rubbing Finn's stomach, eliciting purr-like sounds from the boy. Closing his eyes, Kurt began to sing.

"_Tender shepherd, tender shepherd, let me help you count your sheep…" _Finn's eyes fluttered closed, and his grimace relaxed.

"_One in the meadow, two in the garden, three in the nursery, fast asleep…_" The sick boy snuggled under his covers, a small smile forming on his face.

"_Fast asleep_…" Kurt kissed Finn's forehead again, then settled back against his pillow humming the rest of the song. Sleep found both of them quickly, and neither stirred for the rest of the night.


	5. March 6, 2011

**Like I said, some chapters will be short. Though not usually this short. Sorry for the lack of updates, I've been uber-busy/working on a piece that refuses to cooperate. Also sleeping. Sleeping is nice.**

**

* * *

**

Finn doesn't like Dalton, but he's not quite sure why. Kurt is safe there; he should be happy for his brother. But he's not.

This inner turmoil plagues Finn as he walks into English class, slumping into a desk in the back of the room. On the overhead screen is some poem, but Finn's not paying attention, even as the teacher starts reading it.

He feels selfish and guilty; why can't he just get over himself and be glad that Kurt is in a place that will accept him? He's not sure why it bothers him so much. Finn doesn't feel betrayed, or abandoned, and he thinks that New Directions has a really good chance at Regionals. And he _lives_ with the boy, for Pete's sake! He sees him every day.

But he still wants Kurt back.

The teacher's voice has gotten sadder, and Finn wonders if he should be paying attention. This might be the good part.

"_But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams__, __his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream__. __His wings are clipped and his feet are tied__, __so he opens his throat to sing…_"

The weird poem strikes something in Finn's heart. It just seems so…familiar. He actually _understands_ what the poet is talking about. And that _never_ happens.

And then he knows why he hates Dalton so much, why Blaine annoys him, why he wants Kurt back so _desperately_.

The teacher's voice ended with a quiver, speaking the line slowly and melodically:

"_For the caged bird__sings of freedom_."


	6. March 7, 2011

_here comes the sun,_  
**and I say it's all right**

:-:

The summer before their senior year was _glorious_. The stress of junior year was over, the glee club was granted another year, even though they lost at Nationals, and Kurt was back at McKinley, along with his boyfriend, Blaine. Karofsky had graduated, and Sue Sylvester's reign over the school seemed to grant the couple a bit more safety than they could have hoped for from the slushies and dumpster-dives.

On top of that, Finn was back with Rachel, something that actually made Kurt happy, surprisingly. Though the loud girl got on his nerves much of the time, she was his friend, and the prospect of one day having her as his sister-in-law was suddenly not that dreadful. (Though the prospect of a Finn/Rachel lovechild was a bit terrifying; they were a volatile combination of personalities.)

But the best part was how close Finn and Kurt were becoming. When Rachel stormed out of the Hummel-Hudson house in tears one night, Kurt was the one to compose Finn's incredibly scripted apology, rubbing the boy's back soothingly the entire time. When Blaine was in a bad car accident, Finn was the one to hold Kurt's hand and wipe away his tears.

It felt like they had finally gotten it _right_; their relationship was where it was meant to be. They weren't friends, they weren't lovers – they were _brothers_.

A sunny August afternoon found the brothers lounging at the community park. Kurt was seated on a bench, skimming his summer reading (_East of Eden_) patiently. Finn's head was in his lap, and the tall boy was purring in the sunlight like an overgrown kitty-cat. Kurt absent-mindedly stroked his brother's hair, eyes glued to his book.

The sun warmed their skin nicely, threatening to redden Kurt's porcelain face. Kids ran past them, laughing and shouting. Finn smiled in his half-asleep state, shifting into a more comfortable position.

"You two are disgusting," A snide voice chirped at them, and Kurt braced himself for the worst. Not again. This couldn't be starting again. It was summer break, for Pete's sake!

"Seriously, the cuddly fuzziness coming from you two is sickening. Get a room." But it wasn't Karofsky. It was Azimio. It wasn't Strando or Rhodes or Medina or any of the meatheads from school.

It was Santana. And Tina. And _Blaine_. They were all smirking, and Tina was trying to sneak a picture with her phone by pretending to text.

Kurt nearly laughed. "Oh, _I'm sorry_, is our brotherly love just too much for your weak constitutions? Should we have put up a warning sign for everyone to see? WARNING: Brothers too damn adorable for those with weak hearts and fragile stomachs."

Blaine shrugged. "I might have to have you pay my dentists bill from all the cavities you two are giving me."

Santana gave the boy a fist-bump. "Clever, Frodo. I knew I kept you around for a reason."

"You mean besides to act as your fake boyfriend when guys encroach on the space that is explicitly reserved for Brittany?" Tina asked, winking.

Surprisingly, Santana blushed, flipping back her ponytail. "Possibly."

Kurt laughed, stirring Finn from his nap. "_Ku-u-urt_…why are you…? Are they laughing at me?"

The brunette boy smiled fondly. "No, Finn. Go back to sleep."

"M'kay." That was all Finn needed; he was out in seconds, head lolling on Kurt's lap.

"Well, we're going to go get ice cream. Do you want us to bring some back for you two?" Tina asked. Kurt nodded, pulling some bills from Finn's pocket and handing them to Blaine.

"One small strawberry, and a triple-scoop cone, one scoop chocolate, one scoop rocky-road, and one scoop pistachio for the sleepy dimwit here." Kurt said automatically, smiling at his boyfriend. "Oh, and sprinkles. For both of us."

"And Finn hasn't come out yet because…?" Blaine teased, pocketing the money. Tina giggled, but Santana seemed to genuinely agree.

"Why are you standing around calling me gay? Go! Fetch ice cream!" Finn cried suddenly, waving his arms at the other. "I'm hungry!"

The other laughed, but obliged, and walked off, waving. Finn smiled, closing his eyes again. Kurt returned to his book, settling for rubbing Finn's stomach this time.

"Dude…this is like…the best day _ever_…" Finn said dreamily, opening his eyes again. "It's not that hot out, the sun is shining, there's no drama or stress, and we're getting ice cream _delivered_ to us! Plus, I get a belly-rub from the best brother ever…who's really awesome at belly-rubs."

Kurt laughed, patting Finn on the stomach. "I love you too, Finn."

The taller boy closed his eyes, nestling into Kurt's lap. "I know."


	7. March 15, 2011

"I can't believe you married my husband's hag."

"Hey, now. I've known Rachel a _lot_ longer than you've known Blaine."

"But _still_. Why couldn't you have married Mercedes? Then _I_ would be the one running around town, having a good time and Blaine would be stuck babysitting with _you_."

"Because Mercedes would have killed me this far into our marriage."

"Touché."

"Oh, come on! You _love_ babysitting."

"Yes, with _Rachel_. She doesn't whine when the girls and I have Disney marathons and tea parties and play dress-up."

"Kurt, I'm a father of an eight-year-old girl; I _have_ to do those things without complaining."

"Sure. _After_ you force her and her darling cousin to go to baseball games with you."

Finn rolled his eyes, placing the two neat little grilled cheese sandwiches on plastic plates. "You're just mad that Delia enjoys sports more than you do."

"Because her idiot father and idiot uncle have _brainwashed_ her." Kurt huffed, pouring out two glasses of milk.

"Don't forget Grandpa!" Finn said cheekily, waiting for Kurt to catch up with him as they walked down the hall. "Anyways, this will be an experience. I can't remember the last time we babysat together."

"Possibly because our subconscious minds repressed those memories," Kurt muttered, opening the door to Delia's bedroom. "Girls! We've brought dinner!"

"_Food_!" Sunny shouted, racing towards her dad, who handed her a plate. "Thanks, Daddy!"

"Are the crusts cut off?" Delia asked, setting down her Barbie calmly. Kurt nodded. "Okay, good. Thanks Uncle Finn." She took the plate from the tall man, sitting down at the tea-party table across from her cousin. They both giggled uncontrollably as they ate, chatting animatedly.

Finn and Kurt retreated from the room, smiling. Sunny and Delia were seven months apart, and the best of friends. Kurt couldn't think of a week gone by that didn't include some sort of sleepover between the two girls.

"How long do you think it'll take them to fini-?" Finn started, quickly cut off by Sunny.

"Daddy! Uncle Kurt! Can we play hide-and-go-seek?" She shouted down the hall. Delia came out behind her, short hair bouncing as she nodded vigorously.

"Sure thing, Princess!" Finn called, pulling Kurt by the arm. "Who wants to be it?"

Sunny jumped into the air, waving her arm around. "ME! I do! I do!"

Kurt laughed. "Alright, sweetie, you go start counting and we'll hide." Sunny grinned, and closed her eyes. Delia pulled teasingly on her cousin's dark ponytail before sprinting down the hall, disappearing into a room.

"One…two…" Sunny counted, and Finn and Kurt split up, running through the house. Kurt raced upstairs, frantically searching for a spot. From downstairs, he heard, "…Ten! Ready or not, here I come!"

"Shoot," he muttered, throwing himself into the linens closet. He hit something soft and warm, and vaguely wondered if Blaine had put one of Delia's stuffed animals into the closest for storage.

"Um…this spot is kind of taken…so…get your own," Finn's voice came from Kurt's left, and the man jumped in surprise.

"No, she stopped counting. I'm staying here."

"You're going to make us lose."

"It's a children's game, Finn."

"Then why won't you move?"

"Touché."

"_What does that even mean_?"

"Oh, Finn. You never change."

"Rachel always says that."

"I'm not surprised."

"Oh, shut up- _shh_. I heard something."

They both listened intently, freezing at the sound of little footsteps coming up the stairs. Finn had grabbed Kurt's arm, breathing picking up.

"We are _so_ dead."

"Finn, she's your eight-year-old daughter."

"Have you _met_ her mother?"

"It's just a game."

"Like I said: have you _met_ Rachel?"

"You're being ridiculous- _AHH!_" They both screamed as the door flew open, a cackling little girl standing before them.

"I _found_ you! I found you!" She pulled them both out, running down the hallway. "Let's go find Delia!"

The two men followed sheepishly, avoiding eye contact. "Well, knowing _your_ daughter," Finn said, cracking a smile. "We should probably start looking for her on the roof."

* * *

Three hours later, Rachel and Blaine returned home laughing and slightly tipsy. The show had been wonderful, the party had been spectacular, and the people had been amazing. They both felt so _young_ again, even if it was only temporary.

"Do you think everything went alright?" Rachel asked in a hushed tone, hanging her jacket on the back of a chair. Blaine nodded.

"I trust our boys to handle two little girls. They're great dads, and they work well together. Sometimes. I'm sure nothing went wrong."

They entered the living room to find the TV on, repeating the opening menu for _Hercules_. Sunny and Delia were cuddled together on the ground, asleep and in their favorite dress-up clothes (Sunny was in a pink princess dress; Delia was sporting a purple cloak and witch hat). Rachel cooed at her babies, snuggling her cheek into Blaine's shoulder; Blaine snapped a photo with his phone, heart melting at the precious sight.

They moved closer, and saw that Finn and Kurt were also there, asleep on the couch. Kurt's feet were propped in Finn's lap, legs crossed daintily, and they both were sporting special outfits as well.

Finn had a pink feather boa wrapped around his head, and a tutu miraculously wrapped around his waist. There was even a hint of pink-glitter-gloss on his lips, and his nails were now s shimmering purple. Rachel bent over the couch, kissing his temple. "Wake up, Sleeping Beauty," she murmured, giggling slightly.

Blaine looked over to Kurt, who had an old bed sheet tied around his neck, sporting Blaine's glasses and a red mark on his forehead. Though Kurt was only a so-so fan of Harry Potter, Delia had inherited her father's obsession with the series, and both men had to suffer her wrath because of it. Still, it was possibly the most adorable thing Blaine had ever seen.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter, for sleeping on the job," Blaine whispered into Kurt's ear, nuzzling his nose against his husband's cheek. Kurt stirred, blinking up at Blaine groggily.

"Well, you'd better take ten points from Hufflepuff as well, because _that_ one fell asleep first," he said tiredly, grinning in the direction of his stepbrother. Blaine kissed him again, then went to scoop up Delia.

"Daddy? Where's Papa?" She asked, leaning into his shoulder. Blaine smiled.

"He's on the couch. Let's get you to bed." She nodded into his chest, eyes drooping.

Rachel followed Blaine, unable to rouse her husband. With the tender care of a mother, she picked Sunny up off the ground, carrying her into her cousin's room.

"Daddy…makes a _pretty_…princess…" Sunny said, half-asleep. Rachel grinned, kissing her daughter on the head.

"Yes, he's very pretty. Like you."

Kurt groaned, pulling himself off the couch. "Finn, wake up. Finn. _Finn_." He kicked his brother lightly in the side, causing him to fall from the bed.

"Wha-? I'm up! I'm up!" He cried, rubbing at his eyes blearily. "Oh, man, did we fall asleep?"

"Yes. You and Rachel can stay the night. It's too late, and I think she's a little drunk. You know where the guest room is." Finn nodded, standing up.

"Thanks, bro. Today was fun."

"That it was."

A silence, then: "Next time we hide the dress-up clothes?"

"I know the perfect spot."


	8. March 15, 2011, P2

**Spoilers for _Original Songs_. But, honestly, I don't know how you could avoid _this_ spoiler. **

* * *

Something was wrong when Finn came home from school. _Really_ wrong. Like, he was ninety-percent-sure that there was a serial killer waiting for him in the living room. He tiptoed through the entryway, gnawing at his lip. He heard movement from the kitchen and, in a move that would _totally_ get him killed in a horror movie, he peeked into the room to see what the noise was.

Kurt was whirling around the kitchen, tossing a heap of sliced apples into a bowl, mixing them with sugar and cinnamon. A small heap of dough sat on the counter, next to a neatly formed piecrust. Kurt himself was wearing his dad's _Kiss the Cook_ apron, dancing and singing to himself as he worked on his pie.

Finn watched his brother in fascination. After transferring to Dalton, Kurt's spirit and vitality had diminished, fading away as the conformity of the private school sucked at his soul. But now – something had happened. Something – dare he jinx it? – _good_.

As Kurt poured the filling into the piecrust, Finn smiled a little. Singing, baking, twirling – Kurt was like one of those princesses from the cartoons he watched with his little cousins. Which was…odd. Not because Kurt never acted like a princess (he was _scarily_ prissy at times), but because he never acted like a carefree princess.

Kurt sang a line out loud, something about candles and solos, and Finn tilted his head, wondering if that was one of Dalton's songs for Regionals. Best not to ask.

The lithe boy pranced over to the oven, sticking the pie in and punching buttons on the side. This was another odd thing about Kurt's behavior – pie was unhealthy. Unhealthy food was _never_ available in the Hummel-Hudson household. Finn would know; he had a secret stash of Cheetos under his bed. Kurt only cooked weird foods, with no taste or fat or appeal. Pie was fucking awesome, and _really_ fatty and delicious. Maybe Kurt was sick.

Kurt had mentioned something about a solo earlier that week, and Finn had been happy for him, but then his weird bird died, and the house had been in full-out mourn mode. Finn vaguely wondered if Pavarotti had been resurrected.

"No, Finn, you can't have any until it's properly cooked and cooled. You can, however, eat some of this leftover dough." Finn jumped a little. Kurt was looking at him, eyebrows raised in amusement.

"Oh, thanks," Finn said, walking to counter and popping a dough ball into his mouth. "That's really good."

"Thanks, I try," Kurt said airily, humming again. Finn was getting really weirded out.

"Dude, what's with you? You're so…chipper."

Kurt giggled. "Finn Hudson knows the word 'chipper?' Who knew?"

Finn stuck out his tongue, grabbing more dough. "Didn't answer my question."

Surprisingly, Kurt blushed. "Can you keep a secret? I mean, from Dad?"

Nodding, Finn leaned in, eager to hear what Kurt had to say. The smaller boy bit his lip.

"Blaine kissed me."

Finn blinked a couple of times. "Okay…is this supposed to be exciting or something?"

Kurt looked thoroughly hurt. "Finn! I finally get a kiss with a guy that _matters_, and you just blow it off like-"

Finn held his hands up, eyes widening. "Woah, woah, _calm down_. This was your _first kiss_? I thought you two had been secretly dating for a while now."

Breaking the tension, Kurt laughed. "Oh, _Finn_. No! He just asked me out!" Grinning, the smaller boy leaned against the counter, staring dreamily into space. "For once, I finally get the guy… And to think, I was scared that Rachel had stolen him from me!"

Finn looked amused, but a little troubled. "Well, as long as he doesn't pressure you or anything…"

Kurt tilted his head. "What?"

The taller boy shifted awkwardly. "I mean…I saw those pamphlets in your room…I just want to make sure he's not, like, making you do things you're not ready for. God knows I wasn't ready my first time."

Kurt smiled, patting his brother on the arm. "Thank you, Finn. That's sweet of you to worry. But Blaine is a gentleman, and as completely unprepared as I am. Right now we're just concentrating on _us_; sex will be another bridge to cross, if we ever get there."

Finn nodded, not quite understanding, but smiling nonetheless. "Just looking out for you."

"I know."

Finn took another piece of dough, the turned around as he left the room. "Oh, and Kurt?"

The boy looked up from his cookbook, eyebrows raised. "Yes?"

"Congrats. On the kiss, I mean. You deserve it."

Kurt blushed. "Thanks, Finn."

Finn left, smiling. "What are brothers for?"


	9. April 19, 2011

**Hey, sorry for the lack of updates, life has (and _is_) completely hectic right now. I hope these fluffies will make up for my slacker ways!**

Finn, as it turned out, was a _cuddler_. Once he got over the whole _ew-gay-cooties_ thing and the _dude-we-barely-know-each-other_ thing, he settled for the _we're-brothers-now-so-personal-bubbles-do-not-apply_ thing. And while Carole and Burt thought it was the sweetest thing ever, Kurt wasn't so sure if he approved at first.

After growing up with just him and his dad, Kurt was used to alone time – and a lot of it. But he found, shortly after the wedding, that alone time was nearly impossible to enjoy when one obtained a brother.

The first time Finn tried to cuddle, Kurt nearly had a heart attack. Kurt was lying on the couch, feeling crappy and unattractive. Blaine was oblivious, school was horrible, and he got just as much recognition from the Warblers as he had in New Directions. So, out came the last-season sweat pants and Target-brand hoodie, out came the mocha-swirl ice cream (all the fat, all the preservatives, all the flavor), and out came the scary movie marathon. Thus, the moping commenced.

Twenty minutes into his self-pity-party, though, Kurt was attacked. Finn literally flopped on top of him, hogging Kurt's blanket. He stole a spoon-full of ice cream, then settled his head on Kurt's stomach, watching the TV intently.

"_What are you doing?_" Kurt hissed, setting the bowl on the floor.

Finn shushed him, answering only a quick, "This is my favorite part!"

Kurt took a deep breath, hoping that Finn would mistake his rapid heartbeat as fright from the movie, not fright from being cuddled by his past crush and the boy who broke his heart.

By the end of the movie, though, Kurt learned to relax, and suddenly the cuddling wasn't so bad. He could see why people liked doing it every once and a while.

But Finn didn't like doing it once and a while. He liked doing it _a lot_.

During family game nights, when Burt and Carole were hogging the loveseat to be all lovey-dovey as they helped each other cheat, Kurt would suddenly find his armchair over-occupied and a warm body pressed up against his. On weekends, when he would lie in the grass of the backyard and text Blaine, Finn's head would be resting on his stomach, its owner fast asleep in the sun like a puppy. Late at night, sometimes, Finn would appear in Kurt's room, and he would sip on warm milk and cuddle against Kurt's side and tell him all of his troubles and triumphs.

Finn Hudson was a cuddler.

But so was Blaine Anderson.

It was a Friday night when Blaine showed up on the Hummel's doorstep, sleeping bag in tow. He and his dad had fought _again_, and he knew that it would just be easier to escape for the night. Even though he and Kurt were official now, Mr. Hummel had confided in Blaine that he was welcome over anytime things got rough at home. Even now, though he was dressed in pajamas and looked a little cranky, Mr. Hummel nodded in understanding when he saw Blaine on his doorstep, and let him in wordlessly.

"Thanks, Mr. Hummel," Blaine said quietly, afraid of waking anyone in the house who might be asleep.

"Call me Burt, kid," Mr. Hummel said, locking the front door and walking towards his own room. "Sleep tight."

Blaine smiled gratefully, then bounded up the stairs, walking quietly down the hall to Kurt's room. He opened the door slowly, shocked at the sight in front of him.

Kurt was on his back, murmuring something softly, his voice low and soothing. Finn was curled against his side, smiling contently as Kurt ran his fingers through his hair. Blaine cleared his throat awkwardly, wondering if he should just go sleep in Finn's room.

"Blaine? What are you doing here?" Kurt asked sleepily. "Is something wrong?"

"Fight. With my dad." Kurt nodded in understanding, patting the bed beside him. Blaine raised an eyebrow. "You sure? I feel like I'm interrupting a tender brotherly moment here."

Finn chuckled into Kurt's chest. "Dude, just come cuddle. Kurt's hands are, like, really soft and he tells me stories and sometimes sings and it's awesome."

Blaine dropped his things and kicked his shoes off before hopping onto the bed. He nestled against his boyfriend, breathing in the scent of _Kurt._ Kurt smiled, running his free hand through Blaine's curls.

"And then the little boys, Chris and Cory, met up with another little boy…um, Darren, and they played and played and played until it was dark and they were lost."

Finn tightened his arm around Kurt's waist, and Blaine rested his palm across Kurt's heart, fingering his shirt mindlessly.

"Then what?" Finn asked, half-asleep. Kurt hummed a little, then replied.

"Then they found a meadow, and fell asleep together. And they were warm and happy and…sleepy…" Kurt's eyes drooped, and before Blaine knew it, the boy had drifted off to sleep, his brother following right behind.

Blaine studied them for a while, as his own eyes got itchy and heavy. He loved the way that Finn, much too big to be on Kurt's bed, scrunched himself up to fit into Kurt's arms. And he loved the way that Kurt's hand stayed tangled in Finn's hair, like a father's hand would ruffle his son's. And he _especially_ loved the way that, in a state of sleep, both boys held each other _closer_, rather than pushing away.

As he, himself, drifted towards sleep, Blaine nuzzled his face into Kurt's shoulder, loving everything there was to love about the brotherhood that was Furt.


	10. April 20, 2011

As Finn scooped his small stepbrother into his arms, he couldn't help but note how light the boy is. Ever since his father's health nose-dived once again, Kurt had basically lost the drive to live. He stopped eating, stopped sleeping, stopped talking – it seemed he had a one-track mind, at it was set on his sick father.

It was late, but Carole was still at the hospital. Finn had managed to force a little bit of toast into Kurt, and he nearly cried with happiness when the slender boy nodded off against his shoulder halfway through an episode of _Intervention_.

As Finn ascended the stairs slowly, Kurt curled in on himself, his childlike pink lips trembling slightly. He smelled faintly of rosemary and mint and moisturizer and was so very warm for someone so little. Finn could feel the boy's spine clearly through his shirt as he held him, and his bony elbows were digging into Finn's arms.

As the two boys reached the landing, Kurt stirred, burying his face into Finn's collarbone. Finn felt his heart melt as the corners of his brother's mouth turned up.

He walked down the starlit hallway to Kurt's room, wondering if he was going to have to drive to the hospital and force his mother to come home. Brushing those worries aside, Finn set his stepbrother onto his bed and pulled the covers around his slightly shivering frame.

"Mmmgrh…Finn?" Kurt's eyes were half-open, and in the moonlight coming through the window his cheeks looked gaunt and his eyes sunken. Finn bit his lip.

"Yeah, buddy?"

"Thank you." His voice was hoarse and quiet, and the weak sound of it broke Finn's heart.

"It's what brothers do, man." Finn moved to sit next to Kurt on the bed, rubbing his stepbrother's shoulder. Kurt sighed, eyes fluttering with fatigue. "Go back to sleep, Kurt. I'll be here when you wake up."

Kurt nodded, forming to Finn's body as the taller boy laid his body down on the bed. Finn wrapped both arms around Kurt, letting his brother's soft, fine hair tickle his cheek. Finn's own scent of Old Spice and sweat and laundry detergent mingled with Kurt's rosemary-and-mint air eclectically, and their fingers tangled as they both drifted towards unconsciousness.

They fit together comfortably, Finn found as his hazy brain slowly faded. Maybe they were born to be brothers.


	11. April 20, 2011, P2

**Prompt: **_**Red**_

Kurt marches down the hallway, head held high as drops of ice and syrup fall to the ground in his wake. He bursts into the boys' room, walking up to a sink calmly. Finn peeks into the bathroom, grimacing at his stepbrother.

"Stop staring, Finn," Kurt says abruptly, splashing water on his face. "It's rude."

There is a teasing edge to his voice, so Finn cracks a smile. Leave it to Kurt to make a joke in the midst of his humiliation.

"Sorry," Finn supplies, picking ice out of his brother's hair. "Can't help it. Red's always been your color."

**Prompt: **_**Heart**_

Kurt wears his heart on his sleeve for everyone to take and mangle and lose. Finn's done it, as have others before him, and now, after Kurt has sewn it back on his designer shirt cuffs with fraying thread, this Blaine kid is toying with the worn material, threatening to break it completely.

Finn will not stand for this. Kurt needs a boy who will be gentle and take care of Kurt's heart and mend it until it can't be ripped so easily from his sleeve.

(If only he knew where Burt hides the shotgun. That would be helpful.)

**Prompt: **_**Drink**_

Finn's drunk and Kurt's tipsy and Blaine's passed out on Kurt's bed and Kurt isn't sure what's going on but Finn is singing – loudly – and Kurt's never been more grateful to have his father _out_ of the house for the weekend and Finn is supporting most of his weight on Kurt's shoulders and Kurt's just not that strong and they're both tumbling to the ground and Santana is just laughing at them and Kurt reaches for the booze and hoping it gives him the strength to a) lift his brother, b) kill his brother, or c) pass out so he doesn't do something stupid.


	12. April 24, 2011

**Prompt: **_**Spring**_

April showers bring May flowers, so what do May flowers bring? Usually, Finn would answer "pilgrims," but living with Kurt has taught him that the _real_ answer is, "a bitchy, sick, terrifying little brother, that's what."

On Good Friday, while his mom and Burt are dealing with the delightful arrival and presence of Grandma Margret Hummel and other unwanted relatives, Finn stumbles into the bathroom to find his brother red-eyed and runny nosed.

(It takes ten minutes and an incredibly pissy and irritated Kurt Hummel to convince Finn that, if Kurt wanted to cry, he wouldn't do it in a dirty _bathroom_.)

**Prompt: **_**Sunrise**_

Finn doesn't really know what's going on when he's pulled from his bed at some ungodly (pun not intended) hour on Easter Sunday when all he wants to do is stay in bed and wait for the "Easter Bunny" to bring him chocolate and jelly beans and dammit, now he's hungry.

But Kurt is just shushing him and pulling him into the backyard, grinning stupidly. And Finn looks up, and sees _why_ Kurt is smiling so goofily, and he can't help but smile, too.

The sky is red and yellow and pink and beautiful (and Kurt is _totally_ tearing up.)

**Prompt: **_**Purple**_

"I'm going to kill you."

The words are calm and matter-of-fact, but Finn is still really, really scared and really, really amused by the terrifying gleam in Kurt's eyes.

"I'm sorry?" He tries, but knows it's not going to help. "I'll pay for a new one?"

"Oh, you'll pay…" Kurt stands slowly. "In blood and tears. And pain. Lots of pain will be involved."

Finn runs for it. (Because Kurt's pants are covered in purple Easter-egg dye and they look expensive and Finn really needs to learn how to not destroy things if he's going to live here until graduation.)


	13. May 1, 2011

**_i. i've seen you crying_**

Finn hates when Kurt cries – which happens a lot, okay? He hates to remember how _he_ made Kurt cry before, how _he_ was the reason for his brother's face to crumple up in pain, red and blotchy and soaking wet from tears, no actual sounds coming from his mouth.

He's a good brother, now, he likes to think. At least, he tries to be a good brother. But sometimes he just feels like he has completely failed Kurt Hummel.

And every time his brother cries, Finn's heart breaks.

**_ii. you felt like it's hopeless_**

"I give up. It's useless."

Kurt looks to where Finn has slammed his textbook shut, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "What's wrong?"

Finn sighs. "It's Algebra. I just…I'm so stupid! I don't understand any of this! I should just give up now."

Kurt walks over to his brother's desk, opening the book gently.

"You're not stupid."

Finn gives him a doubtful look, but Kurt just smiles.

Finn gets a B+ on his Algebra quiz that week, and he posts it on the fridge for everyone to see (but mostly Kurt).

**_iii. i'll always do my best to make you see_**

Kurt isn't a real touchy-feely guy (at least not around Finn), but he gets the message across: he loves Finn, he cares for him, and he could never ask for a better brother.

Finn, on the other hand, is terrible at conveying this back, no matter how much Kurt means to him.

But he tries anyways.

When Kurt was upset about Blaine's lack of interest in him, Finn tried to bake him a cake. But, like with most other foods, he burned it, and no amount of icing could cover up his failure.

When Kurt bombed his first test at Dalton, Finn tried to watch Project Runway with him as he drowned his sorrows in low-fat ice cream, but Finn just fell asleep ten minutes in.

So when Kurt comes home after a long day in Burt's shop and is faced a long night of homework to do, Finn doesn't try to dazzle his brother with love and affection; he goes the old-fashioned way.

As he passes by his brother doing work at the kitchen counter, he pecks his cheek, simply and sweetly.

**_iv. baby you're not alone_**

The thunderstorm is _loud. _And neither boy is afraid to admit that they're _scared_. But they _are_ both too proud to ask for comfort.

(Like that's ever stopped them before.)

So how Finn ends up in Kurt's bed is a mystery, but neither cares that much. Because they're warm and snuggly and safe together and it's _so not gay_ because they are brothers.

(Of course, when Finn wonders out loud if it's gay because Kurt's there, he does get kicked out of the bed. But only for a little while. Kurt is too scared and too forgiving to make him sleep on the floor for very long.)

**_v. _**'_**c****ause you're here with me**_

"Finn, just because my dad told you to keep an eye on me doesn't mean you have to _follow me everywhere_."

Finn shrugs, aware that Kurt can't actually see his shrug from _inside the bathroom stall_. "Look, I'm just being a good brother, okay?"

The toilet flushes, and Kurt emerges, brushing past Finn to wash his hands. "Being a good brother doesn't mean you have to stalk me."

"But what if the Bullywhips aren't around to save you? I don't trust Karofsky anyways…" Finn mumbles, pouting a little. "I just need to keep you safe."

Kurt sighs, an adoring expression on his face. "That's sweet of you, Finn." The expression changes very quickly to annoyance. "But if you don't stop following me around, I'm going to start using the girls' room. Frequently."

"Didn't Figgins ban you from there?" Finn asks happily as Kurt picks up his bag.

"Damn that man…" Kurt groans, stalking out of the bathroom. Finn follows like a loyal puppy.

**_vi. and nothing's ever gonna bring us down_**

They both stand in front of the headstone, faces solemn. The wind is chilly and biting.

"You ready to go home?" Finn asks, rubbing Kurt's shoulder. The smaller boy nods slowly, eyes never leaving the headstone.

_Katherine Elizabeth Hummel.  
__Daughter. Sister. Wife. Mother._

"I hope she knows Dad is happy again," Kurt whispers, blinking back tears. "She hated when he was sad. And he _was_ sad for so long…"

"I'm sure she knows," Finn says, biting his lip. "But what about you?"

"What about me?" Kurt's voice was soft and thick with emotion.

"Are you happy?"

There is a moment – a long, impregnated, silent moment where nothing but the wind in the trees can be heard. Then:

"Yeah. I am."

Finn smiles. "I think that's what she really wants to know."


	14. May 8, 2011

**Hey guys, sorry for the delay in updates, APs and shit and nonsense and life. Whatevs. Happy Mother's day to all! In celebration of my own badass mother, I wanted to celebrate Finn's badass mother (and the badass mother that Kurt used to have). So…enjoy!**

**Also, PLEASE HELP: I'm asking for some prompts. I'm always coming up with ideas, but they turn into long, drawn-out stories and I just want some short little ficlets for this story, so if you have any furt-y awesome prompts, send 'em yonder! Please and thank you!**

* * *

Kurt trudged downstairs, vaguely unaware of anything that was going on. It was Sunday, he grasped that much, and it was early, but he was an incredibly light sleeper and someone was making noise in the kitchen. But it was early, and no one in the Hummel-Hudson family ever got up early on the weekends.

As he rounded the corner into the kitchen, Kurt was met by the entertaining and worrying sight of Finn Hudson in an apron trying to cut open an egg with a pair of scissors.

"What the hell are you doing, Finn? It's seven in the morning," Kurt whined, slumping against the counter. Finn turned around, smiling.

"I'm making Mom some breakfast-in-bed!" He exclaimed, holding up the egg. Kurt blinked a couple of times, then yawned.

"Why, might I ask? You can't cook."

Finn's smile faded. "You don't know what day it is, do you?"

Kurt's stomach lurched; how could he have forgotten? All the stores at the mall were having special sales, and Blaine had explained his weekend plans in great detail multiple times the week before.

"Oh, crap," Kurt murmured, closing his eyes. "It's Mother's Day."

Finn bit his lip, grimacing sympathetically. "You know, you can go back to bed if you want. Mom'll understand if you don't want to celebrate."

Kurt swallowed the growing lump in his throat, shaking his head. "Come here," he said, taking the egg from Finn's hand. "This is how you do it."

He broke the egg easily over the frying pan, tossing the shells away. Finn watched gratefully as Kurt scrambled and fried and perfected the eggs in a way only mastered through years of feeding oneself.

"Will you pour out some guava juice? I'll make cinnamon toast." Finn nodded, heading towards the fridge. Kurt pulled out the bread, butter, sugar, and cinnamon, hands working effortlessly to make the meal.

* * *

"_And after the bread is all hot and toasted, you spread butter a-a-all over it, just like that," Katherine said, holding her little boy's hand as they sloppily spread the margarine onto the toast. Kurt grinned. _

"_Mama, that's how you make _regular _toast!" He exclaimed, setting the knife down as they finished. "I thought we were making special toast."_

"_Oh, we are," Kathy assured him, pulling out the sugar. "First, a little fairy dust." She sprinkled a pinch of sugar onto the toast, then handed her son the rest, letting him finish the task. _

"_Fairy dust?" He asked excitedly, being careful to layer the sugar perfectly. Katherine nodded. _

"_Yup. And then some magic powder that your father stole from a sleeping warlock." She shook on some cinnamon, handing the bottle to Kurt. He shook on a liberal amount, grinning. _

"_Isn't stealing bad, Mama?" He asked, setting the cinnamon down. Kathy nodded. _

"_Yes, but the warlock was a bad man, and was going to use the powder for evil things, so your daddy stole it so we could make our special toast."_

_Kurt smiled again. "And our Special Toast is good, because it makes everyone happy!" He cried, picking up a piece to eat. Kathy picked up the other, pecking her son on the nose. _

"_Yes. Our Special Toast is magical."_

* * *

"Kurt. Kurt? _Kurt!_" Kurt looked up, surprised to see Finn standing next to him holding a tray of food. Kurt collected himself, placing his plate of cinnamon toast next to the eggs.

"Are you okay?" Finn asked as Kurt followed him out of the kitchen, and through the living room. Kurt nodded.

"Just…remembering."

Finn seemed to understand. "I'm sorry, man," he whispered, pausing at the bottom of the stairs. "Like I said, you don't have to celebrate with us."

Kurt shook his head again. "No, it's okay. I…I want to."

Finn didn't look convinced, but he said nothing. They climbed the stairs and snuck into the master bedroom, Finn calling out, "Happy Mother's Day!"

Carole and Burt woke groggily, but at the sight of the two boys Carole sat up, beaming happily.

"Oh, boys…this is so nice!" Finn sat the tray down in her lap; Kurt watched as Carole kissed her son's cheek, trying to repress his jealousy.

"Finn…these eggs aren't burned…and the toast has cinnamon on it…Kurt, did you make this?" Kurt looked up to see Carole grinning at him. Finn looked away sheepishly, sitting on the edge of his parents' bed.

"Um, yes. Finn was having some issues when I came downstairs. I offered my assistance." Carole gave him an adoring look, motioning for him to come hug her. He did, and he pecked his cheek like she did with Finn.

"Thank you, sweetie," she whispered, rubbing his back lightly. Kurt bit back tears, a small smile forming on his face.

"It's no problem, really," he said, sitting next to Finn. Burt smiled sleepily at his newly-formed little family, kissing Carole on the cheek.

"Happy Mother's Day," he said, looking to Kurt. They shared a moment, a sad, silent moment of remembrance, and then it was over, and they allowed themselves to enjoy the morning.

"Happy Mother's Day," Kurt whispered, biting his lip. Finn wrapped an arm around his stepbrother's shoulder, leaning his cheek on the top of the boy's head.

And life went on.


	15. May 15, 2011

Finn sat at the kitchen counter, nursing his jaw with an ice pack. How the hell Jesse St. James had been able to law one on him was a mystery, but there he sat, bloody-nosed, while that curly-haired traitor got off injury-free. Prom sucked.

Luckily for him, Burt and Carole were fast asleep by the time he came home. He knew he'd have to deal with their wrath in the morning, but the delay was welcome. Maybe he could convince them that he just tripped or something (his dancing _was_ infamous).

The back door opened quietly, and Finn turned to see a red-eyed, tiara-adorned Kurt Hummel, who looked like he couldn't decided between smiling and crying.

"What…what happened?" Finn asked dumbly, lowering his ice pack. "Did Quinn give you her tiara? Why are you sad? Did Blaine hurt you? I swear, I'll kill him-"

Kurt tossed the tiara onto the counter harshly, cutting his brother off. "Good to see you haven't learned to control your macho impulses, even after getting kicked out of Prom and leaving your girlfriend dateless." Finn winced. "No, Blaine did not hurt me, and no, this is not Quinn's tiara. It's mine."

The kitchen was deathly silent. Finn blinked a couple of times. "What?" He asked breathlessly. "You…Prom _Queen_?"

Kurt sighed sharply. "Yes, Finn. Because nothing at McKinley has changed, and it was a mistake to leave Dalton. God, I'm stupid." Kurt slumped against the wall, eyes closed. "I shouldn't have gone to Prom. I shouldn't have forced Blaine to relive that situation. I shouldn't have worn this _fucking_ kilt!"

Kurt slid to the ground, hands tangling in his perfect hair. Finn dashed across the kitchen, crouching down next to his stepbrother.

Finn took Kurt's hands, wiping away one of his tears with his knuckle. "Dude, come on. The kilt is bad-ass. I wasn't lying before; you rock the man-skirt."

The smaller boy let out a watery chuckle, turning away. "You're such an idiot," he murmured, no venom in his voice.

"Did you get to dance with Blaine, at least?" Finn asked, trying to keep that weak smile on his brother's face. Kurt nodded, blushing.

"It was amazing," he whispered, wiping at his cheek. "Blaine's amazing."

Finn grinned, standing up. He extended both hands, effortlessly hoisting Kurt to his feet. "So everyone else can go fuck themselves, okay?" Kurt looked at his stepbrother in wonder, a small smile on his face. "You danced with your boyfriend at Prom and rocked a kilt like nobody's business – who cares what douchey thing all those haters pulled? You're Kurt Hummel, dammit!" Finn shook Kurt's shoulders gently. "You can do whatever the hell you want."

The smaller boy's eyes brightened, and he smiled gratefully. Careful not to make too much noise, he grabbed the icepack from the counter in one hand, his brother in the other, and marched upstairs, settling down in Finn's room. After making Finn properly hang up his tux, he sat his brother down, letting him watch late-night TV while he properly iced the tall boy's nose.

"I hope it's not broken," Kurt mused, brushing some of Finn's hair from his face. Finn sighed.

"I screwed everything up, didn't I?"

Kurt studied his brother's face, then nodded truthfully. "Maybe you should just take a break from girls, Finn."

The taller boy's face scrunched up. "I'm not having a threesome with you and Blaine, dude. That's gross."

Kurt pressed the ice pack against his nose a little too hard, scowling. "That's not what I meant, genius. I meant, you should take a break from _dating_; just focus on you and who you want to be."

"But that's lonely," Finn murmured, staring at his hands. Kurt's expression softened.

"Life is lonely." Finn looked even sadder now. "But that doesn't mean you're alone. No matter what happens, you'll always have me and Dad and your mom – we're family, now. You don't need a girl to make you happy."

Finn leaned against Kurt's shoulder, eyes on the wall behind the TV. "How did you get so smart?"

Kurt smiled sadly. "By learning from my own mistakes."

"You must have made a lot of mistakes, then." It didn't come out quite as Finn had intended, but Kurt didn't take offense. In fact, he turned to his brother, running a hand through the taller boy's hair.

"I have. And so have you. Because we're human and it's how we grow. Everything will be okay, Finn."

There was a moment of silence, then: "Was that a really long way of you telling me that I can fix this mess I've made?"

Kurt set down the ice pack, rubbing his brother's shoulder. "Little by little, you're growing up, Finn Hudson."

Finn smiled. "So…can I wear your tiara?"

The smaller boy laughed. "Maybe I spoke too soon."


	16. May 19, 2011

**Originally posted this on Tumblr. I know it's short, but I liked it. =)**

Finn sat on the football field, staring up at the night sky. The game was long over (they lost) and everyone was at home in bed. But Finn couldn't go home; he couldn't leave this beautiful view of the stars, or face his mother's sadness anymore.

(It was October 9th, a day no one spoke or smiled on in the Hudson family —the seventeenth anniversary of _that day_.)

"Finnegan Christopher Hudson, you're going to catch a cold." Finn looked around to see Kurt standing behind him, frowning slightly. The smaller boy held out a steaming cup of cocoa and a scarf.

"Thanks," Finn muttered, taking both items from his stepbrother. Kurt sat down on the grass, assessing the taller boy.

"_Why_ are you out here, Finn?" He asked, not unkindly. Finn sighed.

"It's _the anniversary_," he murmured, and Kurt understood immediately.

"I'm sorry." Kurt scooted a little closer, huddling for warmth. "Drink that cocoa; it'll make you feel better — at least, it'll make you feel warmer."

Finn did as he was told, and did, in fact, feel a little better and he wrapped the scarf around his neck and cuddled up to his brother.

"The stars are beautiful, tonight," Kurt mused, gazing up at the sky.

"They're always beautiful," Finn said, setting his cup down to wrap an arm around his stepbrother. "But it's only nights like these that we remember to look at them."


	17. May 31, 2011

Finn came into the house, wiping sweat from his neck. It was 97 degrees outside and his run had been killer. Now all he wanted to do was take a cold shower and walk around the house in nothing but boxers. (And raid the freezer for Burt's hidden ice cream. Kurt would never have to know.)

But as he ascended the stairs, he heard a whimper of pain coming from Kurt's room. Opening the door slowly, he poked his head into the (unnaturally) tidy room.

Kurt was sprawled on his bed, face down, groaning into his mattress. Normally Finn would have backed away and left the room, because Kurt seemed to be having "private time," but the vivid red coloring of his stepbrother's back made it clear that Kurt was in pain, not…well…doing other things.

"Kurt…?" Finn asked cautiously, scooting closer to the bed. "Did you get sunburned?"

The smaller boy turned his head, scowling at Finn. "No, Finn. I just painted my back to look like a tomato."

Finn held back a smirk at his brother's sarcasm. "Well, in that case, I guess you won't need me to rub some aloe vera on it, will you?"

Kurt groaned, head falling back against the mattress. "Fi-inn…will you please assist me with the aloe vera? It's on the night stand."

Finn obliged, hopping onto the bed next to his brother. He squirted out a huge glob of the green slime, causing Kurt to shriek.

"Crap, that's cold!" He muttered, shoulders tensing.

"But it'll make the boo-boo go away," Finn said matter-of-factly. Kurt turned around, judgment clear in his eyes. Finn cleared his throat awkwardly. "I mean…it'll make the burn…heal."

Kurt turned back around, laughing a little, and seemed to relax more as Finn rubbed the aloe across his back. The burn was pretty nasty, and sensitive to the touch, but Finn was gentle and his hands felt pretty good.

"Mmgh…" he moaned, muscles completely relaxing. "Finn, you should become a masseuse. It's your calling in life."

Finn chuckled, moving his hands lower. He moved so he was straddling Kurt's thighs, completely unaware of the compromising position they were now in.

"Hey, Kurt, I got your text and brought you some- um…ice packs…" Blaine appeared in the doorway, a plastic bag in hand. "Um…Finn? Why are you straddling my boyfriend?"

Finn's face turned as red as Kurt's back, and jumped back quickly. "Uh…I was rubbing some aloe vera into his back…well…this is sort of awkward…"

Blaine was blinking rapidly, mouth agape. "Kurt…?"

The brunette looked up coolly. "What?"

"Why is he…?"

Kurt shrugged, propping his head up with his hand. "Being a good brother? Because he knows I'll burn his favorite puffy vests if he doesn't."

Finn nodded in agreement.

Blaine was still a little taken aback. "B-but…"

Kurt was just too amused now. "Did you really think I would be cheating on you – with _Finn_ of all people? Please, he's straight. In fact, he's almost too straight to function."

Blaine nodded slowly, trying to take everything in. "Alright. Well…I'm just going to be in the kitchen…not thinking about you two…I need a cold shower…" He mumbled the last part, leaving the room quickly.

Kurt got up to follow him, patting Finn on the arm. "I wasn't lying, brother of mine. You would make a terrific masseuse." He ran out the door, a wicked grin on his face. "Hey, Blaine! I think we have some Popsicles in the freezer!"


	18. July 12, 2011

**I've been super busy working on my own work lately, but I was having really bad writer's block, so I decided to express my excitement for Harry Potter via Furt. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Rachel? I got us tickets to the Harry Potter midnight release! Isn't that awesome?" Finn was walking back home from the public pool, talking on his phone happily. "What? What do you mean you can't go? But it's _Harry Potter_!"

"_I'm sorry, Finn, but I promised my dads I would go with them to see my grandma that night. I'm sure Puck or Sam will go with you." _

Finn sighed, but accepted her offer of calling one of the guys. He tried Puck first.

"_Hell no. I'm going with my lady. She may be a Twi-hard, but Lauren's got taste – we've had our tickets for weeks, in a fancy theater in Columbus. You're on your own, Frankenteen._"

Sam wasn't much better.

"_I'm taking Stacy and Stevie. I've been saving up for months for this, and they're so excited. Sorry, Finn. Have you called Rachel?_"

Finn slouched into the house, pouting now. He wanted to see Harry Potter _so badly_, but going alone was sad. Surely there was someone else…

"Dammit!" He heard Kurt shout from his room. Finn ventured upstairs and peeked in on his stepbrother.

"What's up, bro?" He asked, leaning on the doorframe. Kurt was hunched over his laptop, fuming.

Kurt huffed, face red. "Blaine won't be able to make it back by Thursday night. And _he_ was the one who was supposed to get tickets! Now I'm ticketless _and_ dateless!" His voice grew softer. "It's the last midnight premiere, and I won't be able to go."

"Are you talking about Harry Potter?" Finn asked. Kurt nodded sadly. The taller boy whooped, punching his fist into the air.

"What?" Kurt wasn't sure if he should look angry or confused, so he settled for both.

Finn jumped onto the bed next to Kurt, smiling like an overgrown puppy dog. If he had a tail, it would be wagging a mile a minute. "You can go with _me_! Rachel bailed on me, and none of the guys can come, so I have an extra ticket!"

Kurt's eyes grew wide, then he tackled Finn in a hug, knocking them both off the bed. "YOU." He planted a smooch on Finn's cheek. "ARE." One on the other cheek. "THE GREATEST." One on the nose. "BROTHER." One on his forehead. "EVER!" Kurt planted one last messy kiss on Finn's lips, then jumped off the ground, punching his fists into the air wildly. Finn sat up, completely dazed.

"I'M GOING TO HARRY POTTER!" Kurt shouted, jumping up and down in one spot. Before Finn could say anything else, Kurt had run from the room, chanting "HAR-RY POT-TER! HAR-RY POT-TER! HAR-RY POT-TER!"

"Glad to be of assistance!" Finn shouted back croakily. His stepbrother really confused him sometimes.

* * *

"God, babe, I'm so jealous," Blaine whined into his webcam as Kurt adjusted his wig properly. "I wish I could be the Harry to your Draco."

Kurt winked at his boyfriend via Skype, brushing out the messier strands of the white-blonde wig. "Well, I'm sure that would have led to some marvelous _role-playing_ later on…" He teased, grabbing his green and silver tie from his vanity. "But I guess I can keep the wig until you get back."

"I love you," Blaine said, smiling goofily. "The moment I get back from Chicago, I'm going to wrap you up in my arms and never let go."

Kurt blushed, looking down. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Dude, are you _ready_ yet?" Finn barged into the room. "'Cause my tie doesn't look right."

Kurt sighed, and whispered to Blaine, "Though after tonight, I might need you to choose a different character to role-play as."

Finn had on an outfit almost identical to Kurt's – black robes, dark pants, white shirt – but with a red and gold tie hanging oddly around his neck and glasses perched on his nose.

"Oh, come here, you goofball," Kurt said, motioning his brother over. "Here, it's really quite simple-"

In seconds the tie was fixed, and Finn was being forced down into Kurt's vanity chair. He noticed Blaine on the laptop, and waved. "Hey, buddy!"

Blaine chuckled. "Hey, Finn. Excited for tonight?"

Finn nodded. "Hell yeah! It's, like, the end of my childhood!"

Behind him, Kurt sighed sadly. "Truer words have never been spoken. Now hold still, I'm fixing your hair."

"What's wrong with it?" Finn asked, suspiciously. Kurt swatted his hands away as Finn tried to intervene.

"It's not messy; I'm messing it up, but professionally. Now hold still." Finn did as he was told, casting Blaine some worried glances.

Blaine just laughed. "Looks good, Finn. Don't be worried. You look like an over-grown Harry Potter."

Finn looked in the mirror, grinning. "Awesome!" His hair stuck out every which way, but in a really cool way. Kurt was some sort of hair god. "Can you draw on a scar?"

Kurt grabbed a tube of lipstick from the small collection of makeup on the vanity. "You can thank Santana for leaving this here. It's the perfect shade of red for this."

Kurt carefully traced a lightening bolt onto his brother's forehead, smiling as he finished. "Perfect! Alright, we should probably head out. I'll talk to you tomorrow, Blaine."

Blaine pouted, but winked at his boyfriend. "I miss you."

"Miss you, too," Kurt murmured, blowing Blaine a kiss. "Night."

Finn watched as Kurt closed out of the window, then turned off his computer. Kurt turned back to his mirror, adjusting the collar on his shirt. Finn bounced impatiently.

"I take it you're ready?" Kurt asked, amused. Finn nodded eagerly. "Alright. Come on, Potter," he said in an impressive British accent. "We've got a premiere to attend."

* * *

Kurt and Finn scrambled into their seats, both vibrating with excitement. Finn had a large popcorn, jumbo soda, and gummy worms, all at the ready. Kurt had a small pack of Junior Mints.

"I can't believe this is it," Kurt whispered, biting his lip with excitement. "This is the end."

Finn grinned dopily. "It's not the end…not really…"

When he looked down at his brother, he was shocked to see tears in his eyes. As one rolled down Kurt's cheek, Finn wiped at it with his thumb.

"What's wrong?" Finn asked, frowning. Kurt gave him a watery smile.

"You're right – it's not the end. That world of magic, of being yourself and standing up for what's right. It'll always be with us."

Finn felt a lump form in his throat. "Harry Potter…it really helped you when…you know…didn't it?"

Kurt chuckled. "When I was struggling with my sexual identity and being bullied non-stop without the support of a peer group to give me strength? Yeah, it did."

Finn was quiet for a moment, then spoke. "You know, when I thought…when I thought Beth was mine, and Quinn was always so stressed, I would read The Sorcerer's Stone to her belly. It calmed all of us, and it made me think that, through all the bad, something good was going to happen. I almost burned my copy of the book when I found out I wasn't the father."

"But?" Kurt leaned in closer, a sad pout on his lips.

"But then I realized that the point of all the books was that the darkness always gave way to light in the end…and that I could move on from Quinn and Beth and Puck and live for myself again."

Kurt sniffled, then laughed. "Who knew a children's book could influence our lives so much?"

Finn chuckled along. "Maybe we're just huge nerds."

The lights in the theater dimmed, and Kurt grabbed at Finn's hand. "_Oh my god_!"

Finn intertwined their fingers, rubbing his thumb against the back of Kurt's hand. His brother looked over, eyes shining.

"Of all the people I wanted to come here with, I'm really glad it ended up being you, Kurt."

Kurt let another tear slip down his cheek, and Finn pressed his lips to the smaller boy's forehead, the hairs of the blonde wig tickling his nose.

"I love you, you big nerd," Kurt said, laughing quietly as the trailers played. "Thank you for bringing me tonight."

Finn pulled his stepbrother closer and rested his head on Kurt's. "Shh…it's starting!"

The theater erupted in cheers as the familiar beginning notes of the theme song began, and Finn shoved a huge handful of popcorn into his mouth. Kurt clasped his hands together, wiggling in his seat.

The crowd quieted, and the boys lost themselves in the magic of the movie, hands never pulling apart. And if they both cried like babies at the end, well…no one needed to know that.


	19. August 24, 2011

Note: So I haven't done one of these in a while. So I decided to go for it.

:-:

_kurt is a supernova  
_bright&bold&volatile  
**and his core is dark, cold  
**e m p t y  
_**a blackhole heart and fiery eyes**_

:-:

finn is a rock  
**built like a mountain, sturdy and dense  
**_c o n s t a n t  
__**he is nothing if not strong**_

:-:

_**maybe they were never meant to be friends**_  
or lovers or neighbors or teammates or strangers  
**but they fit together  
**i m p e r f e c t l y  
_but in all the right ways_

:-:

they are b r o t h e r s  
**kurt's fire cannot scorch finn's stone  
**_as finn holds kurt close to his heart  
_and no one can fill that e m p t y hole  
_**that dark, dark hole  
**_**like the boy who's been through the same pain**

:-:

_kurt is a phoenix, a comet, a star  
_**finn cannot be moved  
**t h e y w o r k  
_**together they balance, they steady their steps  
**_and march into the chaos as brothers

:-:


End file.
